Rawk Jam!
by Purple-Ketchup
Summary: Santana Lopez is lead singer of 'Santana and the Satanists'. They've just got their big break, an invitation to a Rawk Jam International Battle of the Bands. Will they claim the prize? Or will a certain blonde in tight red leather throw a spanner in the works? Rating will change for language later.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer at the bottom, just cause I'm indie ;)

This story is for both my Lesbros and my straight friends, (though why straight women exist I don't know) and as ALLWAYS for my readers, please drop me a R&R, but mostly enjoy this story! I'm going through a really tough time at home right now, and writing is my little escape. I hope that reading is one of yours, and I can help with it. PM me if you need to talk or just want a chat.

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"Yo, Satan! We're up!" Puck was calling Santana out of their little dressing room, where she was fixing her eye-liner. "Hold up Puck. Give me a B flat entrance, I want to make a scene..What!?" He had rolled his eyes at her, but was in no state to resist. Santana Lopez was the lead singer of 'Santana and the Satanists' and her vocal talent was extraordinary. Puck played lead guitar, and somewhere along the way the two of them had picked up a dancer-turned-bass player named Mike, and a drummer that Santana prefered to call 'Trouty Mouth' more than Sam.

Tutting slightly, Puck left her to it, before walking towards the stage and grabbing his guitar from the wings. "Alrighty boys, Miss Santana-should-be-Satan Lopez has requested a B flat bass entrance. That's yours Mikey boy. She's in her 'I sing, you play whatever the hell I say the set-list is' mood, so just go with it!" They nodded towards him, knowing full well that even though the Latina could be a handful sometimes, she was loyal to her friends and would defend them and fight for them to the last. Her voice was pure sex too, and it just made it all the easier that the band-mates went along with her fiery attitude.

The lights started to dim, and Mike took up a steady B flat baseline, just as their singer had requested. Soon, the only light that remained was the single shaft of a spotlight, focused right onto the microphone stand. Puck began to play some low notes, and Sam decided to bring the bass drum into play. A lone figure, curvier than all the boys now on stage, began to reveal itself, and of course it was Santana. With the light behind her, she looked even more stunning.

Raven hair was teased and curled to perfection, the ends sending light cascading off in different directions. Hey eyes were outlined heavily, making the deep, mocha powder brown inside them show. Plump, perfect lips curled slightly, as she came forward to the stand. Tight leathers clung to her arms as well as her thighs, pulling off the sexy-model-biker look with absolutely no problem. The killer heels that covered her feet helped her too, as a tan left hand took the microphone stand into a firm grip, her left placing the actual mic in its cradle.

"Ladies and Gentlmen.." Her voice oozed sexiness, and those who weren't already drooling over her body were now joining the fray. "Tonight we're going to play some of our favourite songs, and then some originals I wrote myself with Mike, my bassist. We are 'Santana and the Satanists', and please feel free to buy us drinks!" Her smirk slipped in place, as several men rushed to the bar. Too bad she played for the other team.

Santana's hair whipped round, as she looked at puck. "Looks a go for Supermassive. Original, I'm not in the mood for the acoustic we wrote." The band nodded behind her, as the opening notes rippled through the small club. She made to look down, before jerking her head up to start the song. "Ooh baby, you control my senses.. Ooh baby, can you hear me moan?" The brunette's voice resounded over the speaker system, and she let the song take over. When Santana was performing, a different side of her came out. Just as badass, and just as fiery, but unless it was a battle there was no real venom in her words. Just a kind of zeal that only came with performing.

The ending chorus peaked, "Ooh,Ooh,Aah, you set my soul alight!" and the final beat slammed through the stage courtesy of Sam. Applause, cheering, and too may cat-calls to count found Santana, alone with a drink from a guy that she couldn't care less about. She paid him with a wink, before slinking back to the centre of the stage to continue the set. "So, boys and girls, let's hit some original songs!"

Santana didn't need to warn the band about this one, the vocals began before the instruments, and the drumming was first anyway. "Let me tell you a story, bout a boy and a girl, a very different version that, you've never heard! Okay, so maybe I'm lying but all I'm trying to say, this isn't about the one that got away."

The new song had a good rock beat, and soon the crowd were jumping on their feet, glasses raised high and trying to keep whichever poison they included inside the confines of the glass. "Watch it from your ivory tower, paint the skies grey, like a coward!" Mike and Puck had been harmonising, but at this point they took up the echo. "That all you got?" They asked, with Santana shaking her head in that unbearably sexy way. "I could go on for hours" she disagreed, "A sweet little tale that ended sour." They kept going until the song had finished, and no one noticed the man in the suit that stood out a little down by the corner of the bar. He sipped a Scotch, as his cell phone found his ear. "Hey, Jerry. Look, don't worry about Arizona. I've found them."

_2 Days Later_..

"SANTANA DIABLA LOPEZ, GET YOUR ARSE DOWN HERE!" Santana groaned, and tried to drag herself out of her satin beadspread. "¿Qué demonios, Puckerman?" Eventually, she managed to push herself out of her room, and stumble down the stairs, dressed in only boy-shorts, a black bra and white tank top. "Whadda ya want?" He tackled her to the sofa, knocking the wind out from her chest. "Puck! Other team! Down boy!" Santana rolled Puck off of her, and stood up. He thrust a letter under her eyes, and before she read it her throat went dry. The letterhead had a logo on it. The logo for Rawk International.

It was every band's dream to get a Rawk International Battle invite. The golden break. Even if you didn't win, but had one of these beauties to show for it you had a lot going for you. Specialist scouts chose only those with the talent to win, and it was all or nothing. Santana's hands trembled as she began to unfold the letter. "Read it for me, Puck. I can't look at it." He took the paper quickly, not wanting her to stay in the dark. "_For attention of the band members of 'Santana and the Satanists', you have been selected to compete in the Rawk International Jam, Band against Band battles. If you would like to compete, please send your reply by Saturday, October 7th." _

Santana was paralysed. _Rawk Jam? Band v Band? _"Ay díos mio..Puck! We have to tell Mike, and Sam, and Quinn, and everyone!" Now the shock had faded from getting the letter, it's contend began to effect her. "Rawk Jam! Puck, this is it! We have so much to do! ¿Dónde está mi telèfono?" She muttered the last sentence, realise she should probably call her family. Well, as much of her family that still talked to her after Santana came out.

"¡Hola Mami! ¿Que tal?" A light chuckle came through the phone, before Santana heard the voice of the elder Latina. "Hola Santanita. Bien, gracias. You're calling me before 10am, and you don't sound hungover or depressed. What's up?" Santana pretended to be offended by the statement, even though her mother saw right through it. "I don't party _all_ the time, Mami! Anyway, I have some news!" There was a small silence before she continued. "My band has been chosen to perform at _the_ biggest battle, and first prize is an eleven track album!" Her mom let out a completely out of charachter squeal, but she knew how big of a break this was for her daughter. "Oh my, Santanita I'm so proud of you! Niño, your hermana is here! Come speak!" A few scuffles on the phone later, and Santana's brother was yelling praise for her. "Ahh! Phone call voice, Diego! But thank you, I have to tell Quinn now though, so I'll see you later?" They said their goodbyes, and Santana prepared to break what could be one of the biggest things in her life to her best friend.

"I told Mike, you told Quinn, Mike told Sam, and he told Mercedes so consider everyone in the know!" Santana grinned cheerily at Puck over her drink. White chocolate celebratory mocha, just the way she liked it. "Cool. So I had an idea for the song. First round is the rockabilly round, right?" He nodded to confirm her question. "I figure we could do a classic. I have a song, and it fits the requirements. Remember 'Rockabilly Boogie', by The Obscuritones?"

He pretended to think about it for a second, before smiling. "Sure. actually, I was thinking the same thing. You totally kill the vocals, and I can harmonise it with Mike and Sam. I've got a list of the rounds, for provisional stuff. You know, if we get through. Round 1, Rockabilly. Round 2, Rap. Round 3, Open Round. Then it goes to judges choices." A grin the size of China broke onto Santana's face. "Round two is won then. Origional song for three. Judges choices, we just gotta get there. Who are we up against?" Puck busied himself for a few seconds with the paperwork, and Santana wondered in her thoughts. "First round, we've got someone called The Shmégals. Should be easy for us, Mike googled them, he YouTube'd them too and their jams SUCK compared to ours!" He cackled, allowing himself to visibly relax back into his chair. She grinned back at him, "Tonight then, you, me, mike and trouty. Actually, anyone from the band or crew. It's my turn, and I say.. GayBar. I am _fed up_ of getting hit on in the sleaze-bag clubs you call home!" Puck pretended to look offended for a minute, before breaking out into a cheesy grin. "Alright then, Satan." He stood up, and threw his empty coffee cup into a bin across the counter. "Let's go get you laid." Santana followed suit, with a trick shot over the shoulder. "Damn right, Puck. And if you even _think_ to ask to join me and tonight's plus one, I will shave that squirrel of hair that is apparently a 'Mohawk'." He chuckled lightly, leading her over to his mustang. "Got it, Snix. Anyways, let's go partay!"

Disclaimer: Once again, don't own Glee or Santana Lopez, unfortunately. I actually don't own anything but the storyline, most of the band names I use will be real and awesome so YouTube them! Though gotta remind you, I do own a rabbit that just tried to walk over my iPad like 'Bitch please, I can ice skate!' (he can't)

I don't have a beta, so mistakes are mine! Review if you want me to continue!

Love allways, -B x


	2. Rockabilly Roundhouse

Hey guys, here's chapter two! I'm sorry, but I've got a tonne of RL stuff happening, but I'll try for the update in less than two weeks #LoveYouGuyes, and have #Courage Always xxx

I DON'T OWN GLEE, WHY WOULD I WANT TO ANYMORE?

**Chapter 2 - Rockabilly Round**

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I introduce your judges of the Rockabilly Round! Starting with.. Lead singer of Bring Me the Horizon, Mr! Oli! Sykes!" A huge wave of applause and fan girl screams ripped through the crowd as the mention of this guy, but Santana had no idea who he was. She probably should, so she decided to google him to pass the time as the next judge, Travis Barker sat down. Sam went bat-shit crazy when the host said his name, and this time Santana understood why. Travis Barker was voted best drummer in the world, and Sam hadn't shut up about it for a month until Santana had threatened some Lima-Heights-Adjacent techniques. "This is the Rawk Jam Band V Band 20-13!" Another deafening cheer from the spectators, with some of the judges joining in too. "First up, we have a returning band. They were knocked out last year in round two, it's the Shmégals!"

A boy with a meerkat face waved and stood behind the mic. Santana scoffed, he was wearing a blazer! One thought flagged in her head. No Game. Contrary to the meerkat, Santana was dressed to kill. A tight, red football jersey with the sleeves cut off, dead black jeans that made her ass look more than fantastic and matching red sneakers. Brunette hair curled over her right shoulder, hooding one eye with a shadow. The Latina looked beyond hot, and she knew it. Pick wasn't helping her nerves though, going over his parts with mike. Their ntroduciton began, and this time instead of waiting back the singer took the front, a firm stance either side of the stand as she picked up her electric guitar. Santana had played since she was barely a teenager, but it wasn't commonly known. "Here they are, it's Santana and the Satanists!"

She shot a flirty wink toward the panel, it never hurt to be sexy. "Hey guys, I'm Santana, and these are my Satanists. But this?" She said, the band began to play, "This is a rockabilly boogie!" She grooved around a bit with her guitar, as Mike and Puck kicked the harmonies for the chorus. The latina threw in a riff, before going back to the pattern and beginning her verse.

Well I know a little spot on the edge of town

Where you can really dig 'em up and set 'em down

It's a little place called 'The Hide-away

You do the rockabillly 'till the break of day!

The quick beat and catch of the song got the crowd going, and the meerkat boy began to look slightly worried at their success.

Well they kick off their shoes, gettin' ready to bop

They're gonna rockabilly wearin' their socks

You wiggle your hip, feel the thrill

So come on little baby do the rockabilly-bill

Sam was rocking out the drum kit, mike was half dancing, half playing, and puck and Santana decided to have a quick power-chord battle in centre stage. Everybody was clapping along, and the shméagles were about ready to give up and go home. Only meerkat boy still looked vaguely determined to attempt to beat them.

Well there's little ol' Suzie, turnin' seventeen

Well everybody knows her as a rockabilly queen

And there's ol' Slim, as quiet as a mouse

He grabs ol' Suzie they'll tear up the house

They slammed the last chord out, slashing picks across strings and sticks onto drums. An almighty cheer and yelling mixed with clapping and wolf whistles came from the crowd, with all four of the judges on their feet. Puck smirked at Mike and Santana, they knew they'd won already from the defeated looks on meerkat boy's band's faces.

"We are Santana and the Satanists, and you've been an amazing audience! Goodnight!"

The day after they won round one, the rock world was buzzing. It was extremely unlikely for a rookie act to make it past round one, let alone against a veteran. Santana and Puck were contacted for interviews and a photoshoot for Santana for 3 magazines. They accepted all of them, and little did they know that 300 miles away, a blonde woman picked up her edition of Maxim to find a cover with a smoking hot Latina named Santana Lopez. More than one eyebrow raised, as the blonde woman called out. "Brittany? You might want to see this.."

**Sub-Chapter - Brittany S Pierce (Brittany's POV)**

"Brittany? You might want to see this.." Quinn called from the living room. "I'm in the kitchen!" I called, too busy with my laptop to move. She moved slowly toward me, and I paused the track I'd been working on. "Q, get your ass in here and show me!" My best friend made It over, and threw a magazine in front of me. I managed to catch it was Maxim before I noticed who was on the front, and couldn't help myself but gasp out. "Holy crap, Quinn. She's.." She cocked her eyebrow at me. "I was thinking you might be interested, but for her music? It looks like you might have another thing you like though." I didn't notice her talking, I was too busy looking at the goddess on gloss paper covering my keyboard.

She was beautiful, caramel skin and dark eyes, don't get my started on her abs! Her deliciously chocolate coloured hair fell next to perfect, round breasts. The red of her lingere defied her, making her look even more sexy. I finally got my eyes away from tan, toned thighs to the name and caption next to her leg. Santana Lopez, lead singer of Santana and the Satanists shows us how hot _hell is!_ They got that right! I turned the cover to find a full two page spread about her and her band, and every witty comment she made got me to laugh and smile. Especially the one about relationships. "Quinn, look at this! The interviewer asks _Do you have Some one special in your life?_ And she says.. Get this Q, she says, _no, and I'm not gay, but my girlfriend is._" Quinn crossed over to me, and looked over my shoulder. "Britt, she has a girlfriend? She's off limits. Go for her music, not her panties." I snort suddenly, just the music? Please. "Look further down, she verbally beats the hell out of him and says she doesn't have a girlfriend and _quote_, 'It means I'm gay, you dumbass. So no I'm not going to sleep with you." _Unquote._" Quinn laughed at me, and began to walk out of the kitchen, leaving me to drool over _Santana_. I couldn't help but think, could she sing too?


End file.
